


Autism Buddies

by sneksonaplane



Series: Autistic Teen Wolf [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: autistic Derek, autistic Stiles, autistic headcanons, mentions of ABA therapy, no pairings in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 17:40:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4314321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sneksonaplane/pseuds/sneksonaplane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is 16 when he meets Derek Hale. He meets Derek Hale and sees someone like himself for the first time in his life. It’s not like he shares many personality traits with the sourwolf- Derek is far more reserved than Stiles, has a penchant for brooding, takes things way too seriously. He’s not the most talkative guy either. But Stiles notices things. Like the way Derek is constantly intimidating people with his intense, long stares, the way he misses social cues and doesn’t communicate what he’s feeling with what one of Stiles’ old therapists would call “appropriate body language,” standing there all stoic with his arms crossed most of the time instead. Stiles gets it.</p><p>OR</p><p>the one where Stiles is autistic, Derek is autistic, and they somehow end up actually being friends. This fic takes place before the events in "Shutdown", the first fic in the series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Autism Buddies

**Author's Note:**

> Bolded text are text messages. This whole series will probably just be a bunch of random ficlets that aren't in chronological order at all and have zero plot.

Stiles is 16 when he meets Derek Hale. He meets Derek Hale and sees someone like himself for the first time in his life. It’s not like he shares many personality traits with the sourwolf- Derek is far more reserved than Stiles, has a penchant for brooding, takes things way too seriously. He’s not the most talkative guy either. But Stiles notices things. Like the way Derek is constantly intimidating people with his intense, long stares, the way he misses social cues and doesn’t communicate what he’s feeling with what one of Stiles’ old therapists would call “appropriate body language,” standing there all stoic with his arms crossed most of the time instead. Stiles gets it. So one day when he’s alone with Derek, looking for a solution to their pack’s most recent supernatural problem, he blurts out the words, “Hey, are you on the autism spectrum?”

It’s one of those socially inappropriate things to ask a person if Derek’s reaction is any indication, Stiles realizes. The werewolf tenses visibly, his brooding expression the broodiest Stiles has ever seen it. Before he gets his throat torn out by an angry wolfed out Derek, the teenager holds up his hands in an apologetic gesture. “Sorry, man. I shouldn’t have asked, you don’t have to answer me obviously, that was rude, woah, um. Sorry.” 

Derek doesn’t relax at all. “Who told you that? It was Peter, right?” He honest to god growls when he says Peter’s name.

Stiles wonders if he looks as confused and uncomfortable as he feels now, absently twirling the pencil he’d been chewing on while they worked between his fingers now and raising his eyebrows. “What? No. Peter didn’t tell me. Peter did not tell me anything. I just, I thought you had some of the same traits as me and I guess I assumed? And I was like, awesome. Autism buddies. A partner in autisticness. I’m realizing now that I shouldn’t have assumed anything, sorry again. We can drop it.” 

Conveniently, he drops his pencil as he makes the suggestion. Or flings it across the room while gripping it a little too loosely and maneuvering it a little too quickly from one hand to the other. Derek doesn’t even spare the wayward pencil a glance, too busy frowning at Stiles, who chuckles nervously. 

After an awkward silence that lasts way too long in Stiles’ opinion, Derek opens his mouth. Then closes it. Then opens it again and actually says something this time, if a bit hesitantly. 

“You’re autistic?”

“Yeah, man. I thought you knew, figured someone in the pack would have told you. I sort of self diagnosed when I was 12, then when I was 15 I brought it up to my dad and got an official evaluation. They diagnosed me with Aspergers pretty much right before it stopped being a separate diagnosis from autism spectrum, but I’d never really thought of myself as an aspie, you know? I’m just autistic.” Stiles finishes off his long winded explanation with an awkward shrug. 

There’s another painfully long silence and Stiles thinks they’re going to drop the subject after all when Derek says, barely audible, “They diagnosed me with Aspergers too. I was 3.”

Stiles can’t help but grin. Because he’s made a connection with Derek now. Derek freaking Hale just willingly opened up to him. “Cool. So, autism buddies?” He offers his fist to the wolf, and when Derek stares blankly at it, explains, “Fist-bump, bro.”

“I’m not fist-bumping you, Stiles.” He turns his attention back to the lore they’d been researching without another word. Stiles gets up to retrieve his pencil, still grinning. They’re totally autism buddies. 

 

They start texting soon after that. Well, Stiles starts texting Derek and the older man seems confused at first but usually texts him back. 

 

**8:01 pm (Stiles): “do u watch community?”**

**8:05 pm (Derek): “What is that?”**

**8:06 pm (Stiles): “tv show, man. well it got canceled and now its more like an internet show?? it streams online. it has an autistic character”**

**8:10 pm (Derek): “Oh.”**

Yeah, Derek isn’t the most talkative person even through text. Stiles doesn’t mind. 

**8:11 pm (Stiles): “what about criminal minds? bones? touch? star trek?”**

**8:13 pm (Derek): “Are those tv shows too?”**

**8:14 pm (Stiles): “OMG do you even watch tv. yes...how about the big bang theory?”**

He kind of hopes Derek doesn’t like “Big Bang Theory.” Stiles thinks it’s insulting as far as autistic representation goes. But hey, Derek’s allowed to like bad tv shows if he wants to.

**8:20 pm (Derek): “I don’t really watch tv.”**

**8:21 pm (Stiles): “dont worry about it, bro. we’ll fix that”**

**8:23 pm (Derek): “What does that even mean? Is this like the time you found out I hadn’t seen Star Wars and you showed up at my house and made me watch it with you?”**

**8:24 pm (Derek): “Please don’t show up at my house and make me watch more things with you.”**

**8:24 pm (Derek): “You’re not coming to my house tonight, right?”**

**8:26 pm (Derek): “Stiles??”**

 

Stiles has never seen Derek stim before. He wonders if maybe he just hasn’t noticed it yet, if Derek has some stealthy, subtle methods of stimming that wouldn’t draw attention or if he just doesn’t stim much at all. Eventually he can’t help but ask about it.

“Do you stim?” Derek frowns at him, so Stiles elaborates. “You know, self stimulatory behavior? Hand flapping? Chewing things?” He holds up the pencil he’d had in his mouth moments ago. 

Stiles knows what it looks like when Derek is upset now. There’s not a huge change in his facial expression, but his mouth kind of tightens, and he either stares intently at Stiles or won’t look at him at all. This time he definitely isn’t looking at him, but seems to be trying to look at anything else in the room to avoid the teenager’s gaze. Before he can apologize for asking what was obviously an uncomfortable question for Derek, the wolf speaks up.

“I was in ABA.”

“Like, applied behavior analysis?”

“Yeah.” His mouth is still tight, jaw clenched. “They made sure I didn’t..stim.” He says the word awkwardly, like it’s unfamiliar to him still. “It kind of sucked. I was only in it for a few years before my mom realized it wasn’t good for me and pulled me out, though. Peter was the first to realize it was doing more harm than good, actually. He pointed out to my mom that it was making me miserable, and she felt really bad about it. But I just. Haven’t been able to stim since?” Now Derek smiles, but it’s not a happy smile. More of a grimace, really. “I go to do it and remember “quiet hands”, that’s what they always said when I fidgeted too much.”

This might be the most Derek has ever said to him at once. Stiles is glad the werewolf trusts him enough to talk about the “therapy” he’d been subjected to, but at the same time he hates knowing that Derek had to go through something that was clearly unpleasant, possibly traumatizing for him. He’s read plenty about ABA, knows how many autistic people have been abused in its name, how one of the core principles of ABA is that kids need to be trained out of their autistic behaviors and forced to act as “normal” as possible. 

“Man, that sucks. I’m sorry.”

Derek shrugs and returns his attention to the episode of Star Trek they’re watching, clearly ready to drop the subject of stimming and ABA.

That doesn’t stop Stiles from thinking about it. He knows not everyone is as fidgety and restless as he is, that there are probably plenty of autistic people out there who don’t feel the need to stim often or at all, and maybe Derek is one of them. But what if he isn’t? Stiles can’t imagine how it would feel to not be doing something with his hands or chewing on something when he’s emotional, restless, or just can’t sit still. It’s like a physical need for him, along with being a way for him to communicate how he’s feeling. 

That’s why he ends up buying a soft, foam stress ball and giving it to Derek one day when they’re in his apartment with the rest of the pack to discuss the town’s latest supernatural issue. 

 

Stiles can’t help being amused at the expression on Derek’s face when he hands the bright yellow, smiley face stress ball over to the werewolf. He looks confused and like he’s not annoyed just yet, but he expects to be within the next few seconds. Like he’s preparing his best exasperated look for Stiles, just waiting on a reason to use it. Stiles isn’t deterred.

“It’s a stress ball.” He explains with an enthusiastic grin. “You squeeze it.” The teenager holds up one hand and clenches it into a fist to demonstrate. 

There’s the exasperated look. “I know what a stress ball is, Stiles.” Derek releases a put-upon sigh. “Why would you give one to me? Trust me, it’s not enough to make up for the amount of stress you cause me on a daily basis.”

Listening to their conversation from a few feet away, Peter laughs. Stiles shoots him a glare before returning his attention to Derek. “I figured if you ever needed something to do with your hands, like you wanted to try to stim or something, a stress ball would be a good way to do it. It’s subtle.” The wolf still doesn’t look convinced, so he adds, “I mean, you don’t have to unless you want to. But at least you have it just in case. And look-” He turns the ball around in Derek’s hand so the smiley face is visible. “It’s so cheerful! Unlike a certain sourwolf I know.” He nudges Derek, gives him a pointed look and earns an annoyed huff for his efforts. 

At first Stiles isn’t sure if Derek is using his new stress ball or if he’d thrown it in a drawer somewhere and chosen to completely ignore it. He still never sees the werewolf stim, with or without the ball. But the next time he’s at Derek’s apartment, he sees it- the brightly colored, smiling ball perched on a coffee table in the living room. He knows Derek isn’t just keeping it there all the time, too, because it moves over time. He sees it in Derek’s kitchen a few weeks later, in a cup holder in his car after that, and then in the wolf’s bathroom, which, no. He doesn’t even want to think about what it’s doing in there. But he likes to think that means Derek appreciates his gift and actually uses it, even if he’s only comfortable doing so when he’s alone.


End file.
